“Then you can form them up. But I do not believe there is any emergency.”
Only then did Hornblower’s glance comprehend Bush.
“Oh, Mr. Bush. Will you take charge, sir, now that you’re here? I’ve sent for the first lieutenant. The captain’s hurt—badly hurt, I’m afraid, sir.”
“But what’s happened?” asked Bush.
“The captain’s fallen down the hatchway, sir,” said Hornblower.
In the dim light Hornblower’s eyes stared straight into Bush’s, but Bush could read no message in them. This after part of the lower gundeck was crowded now, and Hornblower’s definite statement, the first that had been made, raised a buzz of excitement. It was the sort of undisciplined noise that most easily roused Bush’s wrath, and, perhaps fortunately, it brought a natural reaction from him.
“Silence, there!” he roared. “Get about your business.”
When Bush glowered round at the excited crowd it fell silent.
“With your permission I’ll go below again, sir,” said Hornblower. “I must see after the captain.”
“Very well, Mr. Hornblower,” said Bush; the stereotyped phrase had been uttered so often before that it escaped sounding stilted.